


Dungeons and Detergent

by Ostler



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostler/pseuds/Ostler
Summary: This thing is in rough draft form and will see many edits before it is finished.Planet Detergent is a world seperate from Earth. The Quincy Ywach sacrificed got isekaied to a fantasy planet where they started their own Hollow Hunting Horror Tribe.Hated by Dragons.Living alongside alien races.Wearing the hides of their enemies.Having their lives disrupted by a kind old man and the beings who chase after him.
Relationships: Ichimaru Gin/Matsumoto Rangiku
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike other Isekais this story is penned more fro the perspective of a local. Tons of OC's in here. World mechanics explained in the prologue.
> 
> Upside is we get more antics from Kaname, Gin, Aizen, and Souken. Though this is a slow burn story.

# Prologue: Clan Drama

Before we get into the meat of the story I want to talk about my home planet, The Planet Detergent.

It’s fine to laugh. I find the name funny too. Yet I don’t think anything will make sense without it. If anyone knew how normal talking animals and magic swords were for me, they'd wouldn’t have thought I was so crazy to be scared of the mundane world.

For thousands of years Humans were the stuff of hallucinations. Societies of mundane people who lived in square buildings and piloted horseless chariots as their planet revolvrd around a Dragon’s fire breathing belch called the sun. In all honesty humans looked like elves with rounded ears or giants that shrunk with a lifespan the size of a horse while everyone else were Orcs, Fairies, Elves, Drow, Beastmen, and Dragons. In my world, those exist. The closest thing we had to humans were the Quincy or Cross Archers as they were called.

Death Blades were the Grim Reaper in my time. Soldier Sprouts were the monsters with holes in their bellies and masks over their faces. Cross Archers had a long-time rivalry with the other races. If you knew how ordinary, how _mundane_ the supernatural powers were in the Planet Detergent, then imagine living in a world where crazy was ordinary and no one would give a darn if you looked unordinary unless having no powers was your superpower. It got to the point the Quincy were ignored because they can sense Reiatsu all the time and never shut up about it.

Beastmen were anthropomorphic animals. Some liked a more humanoid form. Others like a more feral form. The default was animal heads on humanoid bodies with animal legs below human butts and tails attached. They tended to be sneaky and flirty. Not so much the kind for talking but physical contact with the interesting textures of their animal hides made them famous among the lonely. Likewise, a Beastman is rarely bald and contact with skin was a curiosity that involved much poking and sniffing within reason. So long as you don’t squirm the exploration won’t go too far south.

> “Tough it out and let it pass.”

Drow are dark elves. They live underground. They also have a long history of scamming everyone into indentured servitude. Over the years they developed an affinity with the dark arts of their Spider God. They believe the world will end when the light eats us all. Thus these highly superstitious beings are always turning off all the lights in the house and letting loose creepy crawlies for good luck. You have to be specific about what offerings the drow want to bring you or otherwise we will have to exterminate invasive species of maneating monsters the size of elephants. The Drow will eat anything that is not tied down so if you don’t want your family pet to go missing, you better beat them off with a stick, or give your pet a fancy title. Sadly this will also get the Drow to worship your pet and offer it food so please be careful with how you instruct them.

> “Smile, be polite, even if it’s a pain in the . . . Derriere.”

Fairies inhabit hills, trees, and nature. They are the nomadic tribes under government protection by our Prime Bagpiper. Yet, they also raid trashcans. It’s been years since a fairy stopped waging war over candy. Though the last domestic dispute five years ago included the archery division pummeling the Prime Bagpiper with arrows just as he was about to sit down. The fairies are explorers always looking to conquer more land. Yet since they’re the size of a parakeet they do nothing but cause a disturbance in the house. The other races have taken to cans of fairy repellent as these fairies reenact things, you'd see space aliens do like saying “We come in peace. Shoot to kill.” The fairies in turn have an exhaustive field guide of what babies look like because babies tend to put fairies in their mouths.

> “Watch your step, you’ll never know what will surprise you.”

Elves had evolved from the Drow. As a race that hated the fact of owing anyone anything, they were proudly herbivores and couldn’t wait to tell you all about it. Their determination not to harm another living thing ever again had them taking to the forests. If they lived in the cities they just let the gardens be overrun with weeds. Yet just like the drow they still had a love for creepy crawlies. Their equally superstitious nature had them worshipping trees and giving funerals to things they killed for food. They wore bright, happy colors. The are the most macabre morbidities to grace Planet Detergent.

> “Sometimes unique insight requires unique perspective.”

Orcs are the best. We don’t stray from fights. Yeah, we eat MEAT not replication steaks made to look like meat. I'm proud to be a walking tank. Our ancestors were a tribe of barbaric, tribalistic, and violent super soldiers made from mud, blood, and the remains of tortured elves who died of a fungal infection. That’s why our skin is so green. We also don’t reproduce naturally. We gained the ability to think for ourselves when we gained the right to procreate for ourselves. We're the black sheep of Planet Detergent. It stinks we can’t refute years of criminal activities because they’re all true. A classmate of mine compared us to the Mafia but instead of make our people cut off fingers, we brawled it out. Regeneration makes losing an arm of beheading null and void.

. . . Oh and Orcs tend to be a little excessive with blood lust and competitiveness . . . _With_ enthusiasm.

> Like Dad always said, “A man with no loyalties is no more dangerous than a tyrant sacrificing the greater good in the name of the greater good.”

Though I think that was supposed to sound ominous? I'm not good at telling when Dad is being ominous. He's always scary. You just get to have more fun with him when you get used to it.

Oh yeah, the reason I have to know this stuff is my Dad is getting married. Okay cool, it’s been a while since Mum died. I know she's okay with Dad moving on. Problem is, kids, having kids is a lot more complicated when your race doesn’t reproduce naturally in the first place. It's like having the soul and body be one thing and the mana (soul chain?) tied up somewhere. We first have the elements to be careful with.

Earth Magic is anything to do with dirt, rock, and dirt's functions. Tectonic activity to sprouting plants. It also ensures the soil is healthy. So Earth magic. It carries the scent of fresh grass and garden soil if its light. It carries the scent of rot and decay if it’s dark. People who use this magic tend to have a hard time jumping when it’s activated but it is steady and strong like a stone castle.

Wind magic is basically the wind itself. I want to say anyone wielding it is free spirited and easy going but that’s not the case. Wind magic distributes seeds and helps with flying. It also makes you too airborne. You can swat the magic around to make the wind change direction or guide your chin around to let the wind carry you on top of it. Wings also help but if not then capes are used as parachutes. Light wind magic smells like fresh air with a hint of O-zone. Dark wind magic smells like ammonia and makes you cough because it is pumped through machines too; used to pollute during wartimes.

Water magic is used to find water and control it. Since it’s also connected to ice it makes it easy to use in healing, cooking, and medicine. Farmers like the water magic because it helps sense for natural water supplies and easy navigation. It also carries diseases and poison if you’re not careful since water carries all life and diseases are technically a life because they are birthed by germs. Light water magic smells like fresh rain and nothing because you want the water to smell clean. Dark water magic smells like sickness and chemicals because that’s the water you want to avoid. Hot springs natural rotten egg smell makes it harder to detect light and dark water magic but you can make it glow your favorite color if it’s light water magic and your least favorite color if it’s dark water magic.

Fire magic is the tricky one but the most useful for anything to do with fire. It is also the illusion magic because fire has to do with bending light and shadow. The explosions are self explanatory. Yet it is also used for lava. It is used for cookfires. It can warm a room. It can augment the other magic in case you need warmth. Fire magic is connected to destruction and creation since forest fires burn away old growth to make room for new growth. It turns the dead plants to ash so that the soil becomes healthy again. Light fire magic makes anyone hungry when they smell it because it’s synonymous with barbecue. Dark fire magic is synonymous with burning to death so if you smell carbonized chemicals run the heck away.

Then there’s how to administer the magic safely. Mana depletes quickly if not done right. Too much dark magic is basically shooting blanks. Too much light magic is the fertility gods poking holes in all the condoms. Top that with how we reproduce every other mating season. Boys watch from the sidelines, Men get in the fight.

Women and girls . . . Same thing.

Other races . . . Same thing.

Everyone is one of the boys anyway.


	2. CHAPTER 1: Forever and A Little Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ishida Souken arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japanese translations are in the Chapter notes. I didn’t want to stick it in the middle of the chapter or it'd interrupt the flow of the dialogue.

# CHAPTER 1: FOREVER AND A LITTLE BIT

Kids have a really good intuition when it comes to character. When I first heard this story it sounded like the ravings of a madman. The Quincy on Planet Detergent aren’t as grounded as the Quincy on Planet Earth. Where this story came from was the shrimpiest Cross archer I'd never met until then.

What I didn’t know was, there were pocket dimensions opening up when someone was experimenting with a, what was it called, Hogyoku. How does a device that looks like glorified tofu cause so much suffering? Truth is in a long time.

When the shrimpy Quincy first showed near my hoard he was running and screaming in a blue tunic, that showed how skin and bones he was from the back. He was high on drugs too. A drug addict running near an army of battle hyped Orcs. We almost shot him if it weren’t for the ravings coming out of his mouth.

“Uryuu, Uryuu, Ishida! Ishida!” the man cried.

One he was old. Two he was a Quincy. The Quincy around here are kind of crackpots. So, some of my fellows threw meat at him to get him to shut up. He skidded to a halt seeing the sun shine down on his face. Little gray eyes shined with glee or relief.

He fell to his knees rolling in the grass with his ridiculous tunic yelling, “Oh my gods! It's real! I'm free . . . I'm-I'm-I'm free! I'm free!”

His cries of joy turned to weeps of sorrow.

“I'm free . . . I'm free.”

“What are you talking about old man!” yelled the orcs.

He jumped to his knees and crawled backwards. The biggest of us eclipses the sun. When he saw me he almost jumped out of his skin. I am normal. I am six feet tall with some growing still to do. I have skin the color of weeds. Black hair and small tusks for lower canines all inlaid in a square, humanoid face. I’m bulkier than my cousins too.

The shrimpy Quincy had a puff of gray hair and his beard grew out all over the place. He had on glasses. His cheekbones pronounced themselves through wrinkled skin. Those narrow eyes of his were soft, a dark grey and sunken. All the Quincy I knew were ramshackle zealots built like brick houses. One of my cousins picked up his hammer. The man pleaded and begged.

“Spare me,” he cried, “Please I'll do anything.”

“Hey! Squark let him go!” I intervened.

Quincy weren’t special but I'd never seen a man not reach for a weapon before. Squark always put the lame out of their misery. Every orc did.

“Get off Boric!” squark yelled.

“Then let’s drop him off at the elvish village,” I exclaimed, “There’s archers there. Surely they'll pick up one of their own kind.”

“Boric you wuss,” my cousin sneered, “What is he going to do, survive?”

“What are you going to do beat an opponent who's too easy to beat?” I challenged.

Squark paced back and forth. The hammer still brandished in his hands. On one hand, it would've been a mercy killing. Planet Detergent has rough environments. Animals eat people. On the other hand, there is no glory in harming the weak unless they have something you want. No one wanted the old man's belongings.

“Fine take him but I'm taking your meat!” Squark conceded.

We parted ways. I took the old man to the village. Squark and my other cousins went back to the hoard. The old man was weird. He started speaking in a foreign language I never heard before.

“Arigato Boric-shi” exclaimed the man.

I stopped to give the shrimpy Quincy a side eyed gaze. He looked mousy wringing his hands. The temperature dropped to well below freezing. What he was spouting I had no clue. I rubbed a hand down my face.

“I am Boric,” I growled, thumping my chest. “Boric of the Fire Dragon.”

He licked his lips letting the name roll on his tongue. Fire Dragon lit in his almond eyes. Then he started rambling fast.

“Boric? Hiryu no ho!” the man exclaimed, “Watashi wa Ishida Soken masu. Anata no namae wa nanidesu ka?”

“Hrrrm,” I grumbled. I didn’t speak this language. Not even the Quincy spoke this language on Planet Detergent. Was he giving me a name with that question or asking my name?

I didn’t know what he was talking about. I just repeated some of his questions several times until I got it right.

“Watashi wa Boric masu.” I introduced myself by thumping my chest with one fist. I presented an open hand out to the man, “Anata no namae wa nanidesu ka?”

“Hai!” he agreed.

“Uh hello,” I greeted back.

“Ie Hai!” corrected the man.

“Oh what?” I trailed off.

He took my head in his hands and started lifting it up and down. He was trying to make me nod my head.

Then pronounced, “Yes! Hai!”

I took his head in my hands. Good gods he was tiny and nodded his head.

“Yes?” I asked. “You mean yes?”

He bobbed my head up and down even harder.

“Yes!” repeated the man, Ishida. Ishida stood back to nod, “Hai!”

“Strange little man,” I decided.

He must’ve noticed I just insulted him. His nostrils flared. He crossed his arms over his scrawny chest.

“I ne,” the man scolded wagging his finger at me, “Ie.”

I guess Ie means no.

“Don’t call you a strange little man?” I asked.

“Hai!”

The next phrase I learned was, “ _Sore wa nanidesu?”, “Sorhanandesuka?”_ or Quincy tongue for What is that? He kept bringing me random objects throughout the village marketplace and waved them in my face. Eventually I gave the right answer he was looking for and he smiled from ear to ear. I winced. Some of his teeth had been pulled out. It looked horrifying, even to me. Quincy don’t regenerate like us Orcs and no one would look a man with bad teeth in good standing. I must've said so out loud, because he growled out something.

“Kuso!” he cussed.

Now I definitely know what fuck means. It’s tone is universal.

“What happened?” I asked, “Do shita?”

“Fakku Mayuri,” Ishida harrumphed.

Oh . . . Kay. I decided forget Quincy kind. Man needed healing from a cleric. We entered the apothecary tent. It took several wordings to get him to disrobe. The damage was bizarre. Stitches and threads run down his body like a patched-up quilt. His ribs showed. His wrists and ankles were rubbed raw. The women gasped. I was confused. Ishida bowed his head in shame. It tugged my heart wrong, and I barely knew the man.

The mantle was a prized possession of mine but not as much as my life. I took it off and draped it around Ishida. The man jolted at the touch. Compared to my shoulders, my mantle draped around him like a cape to his knees. His eyes sprang a leak. Arms shook around my waist.

“Arigato,” Ishida wept. Tears wet against my chest.

I could only stand there and pat his shoulders. For all I knew he was just a crazy foreigner. For all he did was act like I was the first shred of kindness outside a mean, mean world.

“He escaped the Drow slave camps didn’t he?” the priestess sighed.

“Actually I don’t know where he came from,” I admitted in my normal tongue. “He speaks in tongues. His name is Soken. Ishida Soken.”

“Ie,” Ishida tutted, he thumped his chest, “Soken-sensei.”

“Soken-sensei,” I corrected. “Ya sure you can’t y'know take him to his tribe?"

The priestess shook her head as she gathered air mana in her left hand and water mana in her right. The two combined to form a blue light. Ishida er, Soken-sensei's eyes boggled in their sockets. He started talking up a storm. His ramblings in a panic.

“Mazui!” he chattered, “Mazui.”

Mazui must mean unpleasant I guessed. I sighed. I didn’t speak enough Quincy tongue to reassure him he’s alright.

“Can I knock him out?” I asked.

“No!” the priestesses yelled.

Soken-sensei furrowed his brow in confusion. It was only a suggestion. My grandpa knocked me out to make checkups easier but when Soken-sensei looked at me . . . This was a man whose eyes looked on in trust to the boy who didn’t understand him. In the same long-winded way of talking as we did before, I asked what the priestess was doing and told Soken-sensei what she was doing albeit badly. Maybe it was my tone of voice or the having to repeat myself carefully that distracted him but he dozed off. The priestess laid a poultice on two grizzly wounds on his chest.

“His soul chain and soul sleep have been breached,” the Priestess ascribed, “His magic is sealed. These wounds right here are surgery scars. Whoever held him captive, experimented on him excessively even poisoned him. I'd say the torturer’s knowledge is impressive if I weren’t disgusted.”

“What if that’s not the Drow's doing?” I brought up.

Drow scammed people into slavery. Elves were harboring eco-terrorists. Fairies were trying to conquer the world using mob mentality. Beastmen were capitalizing on the conflicts. Dragons had internal clan wars. He could have been captive in a number of places except my Clan.

“Then you might be needing to keep him for a while,” the Priestess suggested.

“Now hold up I can’t keep adopting strangers.”

“Then help me heal him,” begged the Priestess, “It will require a small gold of course.”

One gold was a hundred silvers. One silver was a hundred coppers. A hundred coppers was enough for half the treatments she was suggesting. I paid fifty silvers first.

“Fix the teeth then we’ll work on the soul chain,” I admitted.

The elfish Priestess tapped her chin. Her eyes lit up in an idea.

“You know I could use your Mana to jumpstart his,” bargained the Preistess, “With your regnerative power it should be enough to give him full use of his Mana senses again.”

“Mana senses?” I asked.

“Quincy call it spritual powers,” the Priestess stated, “We call it magic since everyone has some level of Mana. I could use your regenerative qualities to heal Soken-sensei. How about it?”

“I’ll,” I began then paused. There had to be some way to make it less scary. If his injuries were healed maybe he’d get to go with the other Quincies? “Only if he agrees to it and you've got a deal.”

“Excellent!” cheered the Priestess.

I grabbed her hands to stop her.

“I'm only doing this so that he can get home to his own kind. I'm not doing this out of the good of my heart,” I informed her.

The healing lasted long into the night. I didn’t know taking care of an old man would be so complicated. First was the teeth naturally. Next was the, now get this, Soken-sensei called Mana Reiryoku. Who thought up these weird names? That sleep must’ve helped a lot as he was more coherent a different tumble of questions spilled from his lips.

“Doko?” he started.

“The Planet Detergent,” I supplied.

“Orc!” he yelled out as if everything finally registered.

“No fooling Soken-sensei,” I acknowledged, “You need healing?”

“Ha . . . H-hai . . .” the man said, until he saw the Priestess' glowing hands, “IE!”

Soken-sensei climbed me. I caught the guy before he fell. Eyes wide and pleading he yelled for me not to put him under. I asked him what he meant. I had to translate for the Priestess. Then she started wiping away tears.

“We aren’t doing surgery,” she said, “This procedure borrows Mana and a minor amount of the natural ability of the Mana's owner to fix things. . . Tell him.”

“Alright, alright~ bossy-bossy,” I muttered.

I set the man down gently. Soken-sensei was so skinny he looked like he could keel over. The wild hair of his only emphasized his lack of good health.

“Get your Reiryoku fixed,” I translated, in a blunder between his language and my own. “Different from Fakku Mayuri.”

“Sore wa anzen desu ka?” he asked.

“Hai, sore wa anzendesu.” I reassured.

I pointed to the Priestess. I pounded my fist into the palm of my hand.

“Watashi wa tsuki ni o kanojo osoimashiteShinpaishinaide kudasai. Kanojo wa toraburu no gen'in to narimasu ka? Watashi wa kanojo o utsudeshou,” I told him, "Your language is . . . Eh . . . Complicated."

I promised Soken-sensei the Orc’s favorite promise to give in case of monsters. Soken-sensei didn’t look pleased. In fact I think he looked angry, but his beard and hair were so overgrown no one far away could tell.

"Nōhitto." Soken-sensei growled.

When the Priestess asked what he said, I stated, “Naughty boy.”

The Priestess had a fit.

“May the moon embrace you,” I lied.

She accepted that. Heck, she applauded the sentiment. The Elves around here were too clingy to take off the rose-colored glasses. I sighed. There weren’t enough sighs today and I knew something was up.

“What kind of healing do you have that’s not freaky or invasive?” I asked the Priestess.

“Leeches,” she squealed.

The giant thing in question writhed. Its round mouth had the teeth and tongue of a lamprey compacted on a slug's body.

“Ie!” yelled the man.

I yanked the Priestess off her feet by her robe lapels. My voice dropped low.

I growled, “What part of words do you not get? I said not. _Freaky._ ”

“Oh poo,” the Priestess pouted, “None of you ever wants my all-natural remedies.”

Soken-sensei patted my arm. He tugged on the girl. He probably wanted me to put her down. He yelped when I dropped her.

“II ne,” knickered the man, “Ie Hosen-san.”

“Namae wa Boric desu. She scared you,” I sniffed, “Karma.”

The gods must've heard me. I screamed bloody murder as the Lich bit down. It's serrated teeth drilled holes in my leg. I yanked it off. I bumped some shelves and jars crashed on my head. Soken-sensei pointed at the Priestess. He pointed to the Lich. He pointed at me.

“Hai, hai,” agreed Soken-sensei, “Karma.”

“Karma indeed,” huffed the Priestess.

He laughed from the gut. I growled at him. He proceeded to pat my head. The sweetest of smiles crinkled his eyes. Damn it, that smile was infectious. My lips betrayed me. Even the Priestess giggled. At least Soken-sensei was in better spirits.

The Priestess had me help her move everything out of the way. She produced a stick from her robes and drew a complicated circle of hieroglyphs on the ground. She laid two pillows down. She, or rather I, had to explain to Soken-sensei that he had to lay down in the circle with his head resting on one pillow and I laid down with my head on the other pillow.

“Okay that’s all that needs to be done. Leave the rest to me,” she bragged.

I was too busy watching Soken-sensei squint his eyes shut. What did he go through to get scared of the clergy's glowing hands. The Priestess was at least quicker on the uptake than me, thank gods. She talked us through the process softly. The gentle tone of her voice calmed him down. When she activated the Mana runes all hell broke loose.

Usually during a Mana share there is a slight residual affect of feeling each other’s pain. Limbs aching, temporary numbness, and we were temporarily swapping nervous systems for a while. Normally one or both parties take pain meds before beginning.

Pain celebrated it's freedom by dancing on my bones. Blood spurted from internal organs. Thick phlegm choked my throat. The Mana solidified into the consistency of toffee. It started covering one side of my face and my stomach seemed to drop through the floor. Blood circulated faster. Heart hammered my sternum. Why did I feel a draft where my favorite battlescar used to be?

“Oh no!” the Priestess cried.

Without thinking I grabbed a war-hammer and started swinging. Every bang sent agony crawling through my skull but the solidified Mana was pretty damn hard. It cracked and cracked under duress. I kept hitting my face. The hammer felt good in my hands. It had a satisfying clang.

“Stop!” the Priestess shouted, “You’re killing Soken-sensei!”

Damn it she was right but geez I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed the solidified Mana and pulled. It partly came off with a pop to reveal a tiny canine? Really? Yet the being's presence framed the room. The animal pranced slow and proud like a high stepping horse. Warm gray eyes examined me.

“You’re what I have to work with?” spoke the dog.

The dog had shoulder pads shaped like human skulls. Its hauberk was made of metal that interlocked like Pangolin scales. His fur fluffed out in feathering along haunches and front legs. Feathering popped out around the ears that poked out of his medieval helm.

“Usually arrancars are more powerful but you,” it exclaimed, “are weaker than a Gilliam.”

“I'm not weak!” I shouted.

“Protect that man,” instructed the pet, “He will show you how to get strong.

“What are you and what gives you the right to boss me around!” I snapped.

“Why I'm your Zanpakto, your Resurrection, I am Papillion,” listed the dog. “And Lo siento mi corazon. We're stuck together forever.”

I passed out before I could find out what it all meant. I was vaguely aware the Priestess was panicking. The hole in my body started closing up. The mask looked like something out of hell. It's flat teeth and lupine eye sockets glared back at me. Soken-sensei took the mask and chucked it. Everything went dark.

“. . . Boric-san . . .”

The voice warbled in my ear, distant as underwater.

“. . . Boric-kun . . .”

I squinted open my eyes, Soken-sensei was slowly coming into focus. He shook my shoulder.

“. . . Boric . . .”

Waking on the tent floor became akin to waking from a concussion. I lolled into a sitting position clutching my head. My head pounded. I instinctively felt my chest to see if it was whole, found no holes, and Soken-sensei was on his knees next to me. He wasn’t that flexible before. The Priestess was floundering between books and diagrams. Papers went flying.

“I don’t know what went wrong, Orcs aren’t supposed to turn into Soldier Sprouts but that was definitely a Soldier Sprout mask on your face,” rambled the Priestess.

“<<Maybe it had to do with the . . . What the hell? My voice! What’s wrong with my voice!>>” I p _anicked._

_Ay carumba Miho, are you trying to hurt yourself? Let the affect wear off._

I clutched my head. My brain went spinning. There wasn’t supposed to be a voice in my head. Where did that accent even come from. What the hell was going on?!

“Boric-kun!” interrupted Soken-sensei, the old man now had a healthy complexion to his skin. The scars were now just mere lines along his skin. He was probably back to being in his forties or fifties. Yet he didn’t notice how easy he was moving.

“Poor thing, Soken-sensei must’ve had soldier-sprout poisoning. It’s strange to see an Orc absorb all of that but not surprising.”

The man stood to put out his hand. A flash of blue light erupted from his wrist. He drew back his hand. I gulped. The man was aiming an arrow at my face yet his eyes were pitying me? Me?

I grabbed his wrist. His Mana bow burned but I got to my feet. The man gaped. His lip trembled.

“<<I'm not your prey Archer>>,” I growled, “<<My name is Boric not hollow.>>”

_Let go of his hand idiota. You really need to stop scaring others._

I am an Orc. Orcs don’t do nice.

Soken-sensei, however, had impressive fortitude for his species. He let the Mana bow dissove into the air. He looked at his hands with wonderment than turned over my burnt palm. It was already scaring. It would be gone in a day. Soken-sensei gestured for me to put my head down. I did. Soken-sensei pulled on something on my face. I felt along his fingers only to find pieces of solidified Mana in my cheekbones made up two jagged stripes. I hand an upside-down triangle in the middle of my hairline and one right-side up in the middle of my chin. They were similar to Papillion's helm really. They disappeared in a flash leaving normal Orc skin.

 _Can’t have that showing,_ Papillion obliged.

Only thing left was a beautiful hammer. It was all one piece of metal. A comfortable grip wrapped in Pangolin scales. A spike on top of the eye nestled between plain wedges. Whorls of butterflies on the cheek. A plain neck lead to a gold face showing Papillion's visage. The claw curved into ominous fangs. By all intents it was perfect.

 _I am perfect, aren’t I?_ Papillion purred.

Not really, if I had to take off an opponent’s head, I'd have to smash it extremely hard or stick the claws into its skull and yank the head off. Zanpakto were swords. Swords cleaved heads. Swords or axes worked well for Soldier Sprout dismemberment.

 _Picky. If I was a sword, you’d die hitting yourself,_ Papillion harrumphed.

I blushed remembering I did grab a hammer to smash my mask. I didn’t know it was my Zanpakto. This was so confusing. The Priestess had told me to translate to Soken-sensei that I took on his poisoning during the ritual and he told me to admit to the Priestess that Soken-sensei was in so much pain for years that he forgot what it was like to be without pain. Thus, he forgot the aspirin. Forgot! Ugh, I stood between two blushing people tittering inanely.

“Soka soka what a false alarm,” Soken-sensei laughed, “I've never met an Arrancar as weak as you before yet you’re much less ferocious than the typical Hollow. It’s quite refreshing actually.”

“<<I'm not weak!>>” I spoke up with Papillion's power behind it.

“Of course, not Boric-kun,” soothed Soken-sensei. He patted my head like a child.

My anger churned at being called weak. Yet it didn’t have the bite it used to. Something felt off.

“You are rather kind.”

“I was trying to leave you with someone,” I admitted, “Wait y-you're speaking my language! How much did you absorb of me?”

Soken-sensei bent his knees experimentally. He moved his arms. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Enough to have years of injuries healed,” he acknowledged sheepishly, “I didn’t know you were so young either. My grandson would be about your age right now.”

“Do you know any of the Quincy here?” I blurted out.

“Hooo! There are Quincy here?” yelled the man.

My hopes died in a puff of smoke. I nodded but when I told him the truth he scoffed, “My family is the last Quincy. We haven’t been that mean to the living.”

My head drooped. Of course, he wouldn’t be from around here. Quincies around here were the hostile. Soken-sensei was more rational than a whole fiefdom of Quincy combined. In the end, the old man ended up following me home. I stopped by a general store to pick up gear.

Beastmen have the best array of gear ever made because it has to fit a vast array of bodies from birds to beasts, they are anthropomorphic animals. It was only natural their gear making skills went outside of just making stuff for Beastmen. Soken-sensei kept spluttering at the blacksmith behind the front desk. The blacksmith’s ringed tail carried up in an arch. His ears bushed out wider than any side of his head. He put down the book and jumped to his feet.

“Customers!” he cried in joy.

“Lemur!” Soken-sensei cried in alarm.

“Normal,” I deadpanned, “Sorry Li Mu this is Soken-sensei. He’s not from around here.”

Li Mu shoved his muzzle in Soken-sensei’s face. Soken-sensei balked backwards as Li Mu ignored the idea of personal space. He tried to undo the mantle. Soken-sensei ran away.

“Wow you look like a dandelion,” Li Mu blurted out.

“Li Mu we need gear and clothes,” I added.

Li Mu got out the typical Quincy armor. The Quincy in my world made their armor from the bones of other races. Soken-sensei gasped when he saw the display. Li Mu's lemur ears pinned back against his skull. Soken-sensei carefully folded the thing up and handed it back to the blacksmith.

“I'm sorry but this is quite macabre,” Soken-sensei stated, “But thank you for showing it to me it is very well made.”

Li Mu blinked owlishly. Ears perked up. A cockeyed smirk on his muzzle bared into a grin.

“Oh wow, that’s nicest no I've had all day say how about a discount, these are on clearance.” Li Mu offered.

He ran to put the piece away only to pull out more pieces of armor and gear each more macabre than the last. Soken-sensei reverted to his native tongue easily when freaked out. It was a comfort to know the ritual magic hadn’t affected us as deep as I thought. If it did I'd have acquired his weaknesses and he'd have acquired mine.

Li Mu beckoned me over while Soken-sensei was busy looking through the armor. He whispered in my ear, “Where did you get this guy? I've never seen a Quincy balk at my Soldier Sprout armor.”

It was my turn to be appalled.

“Soldier Sprout armor? Are you trying to kill him? Quincies don’t have the antibodies to survive wearing that armor.” I hissed.

“I-I know but customers want what they’re going to get,” Li Mu spluttered. His tail flicked. He rubbed the back of his neck, “You know how long it’s been since I had a reasonable customer besides you? I can’t be a beggar but I've had customers lately make crazy demands after I told them that armor is whack.”

“Uh . . . Whack?” I asked.

“Yeah dude, whack.” Li Mu chatted, “But I'm no doctor. I have to sell what the customer wants and the customer is always right even when they’re wrong. Oh yeah I need you to sign a disclaimer so that none of this is legally my fault if your dude croaks.”

“If he dies because of your product I will break down your door and force you to wear it too,” I threatened, I cracked my knuckles. “I can admit when I'm wrong because the shopkeeper knows when to say armor is cursed right Li Mu?”

Soken-sensei looked up momentarily to see Li Mu's tail tucked between his legs. Li Mu's ears flattened against his skull. He skittered around the edge. His cockeyed smile widened.

“Ya-ya don’t say~” Li Mu soothed, “Well I might have some Quincy gear. It's a little old fashioned but-"

“And add some leather grieves, shin guards, and chest plate made of monster leather,” I added, “He’s a Quincy but he’s still old. I don’t want my Hoard to think he’s a target.”

“Oh okay boss right away boss,” Li Mu added, “Anything else?”

“If there’s armor that will kill your customers, regardless of species, send it to the hoard,” I admitted, “Put it under “Junk.” It would be an honor to destroy it.”

“You just became my number one customer,” Li Mu purred, he rubbed his hands together, “If Soken-sensei and you need gear, look me up here especially if you bring your friends!”

We finally settled on a white, high collared tunic that fit his form well. White trousers ending in Cockatrice skin boots. The grieves, shin guards, and chestplate were made from hardened leather. Soken-sensei got a glint in his eye as he whipped out the crafting kit. In a flourish a blue cross sewn into the tunic, blue pinstripe down the trousers. The souls of the boots had a six point cross. The blue pentagram went on the cape's button. It matched the pentagram on the tiny bracelet. Soken-sensei puffed out his chest with pride.

“Woo the guy makes handicrafts look manly,” complimented Li Mu.

“Mama! My sewing kit is gone!” cried Li Mu's sister.

“Whoops! Who got a hold of that? Excuse me,” Li Mu apologized.

Somehow, Soken-sensei got ahold of a sewing kit that was lying around. Five minutes later, several more people noticed something else was missing.

“Where’s my stuff!”

Like the children who just broke a window with a ball, Soken-sensei and I fled. The more and more Soken-sensei relaxed the more other peculiarities popped up. I went back to Li Mu's to pay for the damages. Soken-sensei was light on his feet like an Elfin archer. He was rarely on the ground and when he was he perked up at the slightest noise. The closest I could compare him to was a deer, he was that poised. He caught his reflection in the nearby pond.

“I need a shave.” Decided Soken-sensei and off he disappeared.

“Now what?” I mumbled.

Keeping track of the man was getting harder and harder than I thought. Someone in the distance screamed. I skidded to a halt. Fear crawled up my spine. The Drow matron of a nearby hill stormed me down.

“Who took my knives and mirror!” she snapped.

“Oh shit,” I cursed, “Matron Malady~ hi~”

The Matrons were the patron saints of technology. Not to be confused with Elvin Priesthood these women were the equivalent of peacekeepers, mentors, and high on the power food chain.

“Kids these days, too unappreciative for signs of bad luck,” she huffed, “Stealing will send you to hell. You all need the gods.”

And just when she got riled up Soken-sensei came back. His dandelion head had been tamed into a cookie duster moustache, a tiny beard on the chin and a bush of gray curls. This only finished the transformation into the softest looking man I'd ever seen. He put the stolen goods back in her hands.

“I'm sorry I pick things up at random,” he apologized, “Here I cleaned these up for you.”

Matron Malady gushed, “You’re so sweet. Here; have a good luck charm.”

She handed Soken-sensei a giant scorpion the size of Papillion. Soken-sensei took the gift. The woman left, blushing. It was until Matron Malady was out of earshot he finally shrieked.

“GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” he screamed.

“Hang on,” I huffed, “Here, hold out your hand to the nearest branch.”

As Soken-sensei did so, the scorpion climbed onto the branch and up the tree. It belonged to this forest anyway. The Drow tended to like creepy crawlies a bit too much. I sighed.

“You really need to be careful, some items are cursed and some of them used to be a person,” I warned, “What if you got possessed. I can’t hit problems that don’t have a physical aura.”

“But you did your best and that truly matters,” Soken-sensei stated.

It was hard to be mad at Soken-sensei. For a Quincy, he was alright.

“Okay, because you’re new here I have to warn you the other races of Planet Detergent aren’t friendly with the other races.” I warned.

“You mean the Quincy wars and nearly toppling the balance of souls,” Soken-sensei questioned.

I paused. The level of chaos and destruction Soken-sensei hinted at was cosmic horror heights. I wasn’t even thinking it be that bad.

“No, it's just that Drow swindle people into slavery, Dragons start wars, Orcs finish wars, Fairies conquer lands, and Quincy around here tend to . . . To . . .” I trailed off. “Quincies start wars too. The Elves are an herbivore ethnostate.”

Soken-sensei stroked his beard. He nodded.

“The Priestess reminds me of my neighbors from the hippy commune,” he admitted. “The Reishi here is much denser than in my world.”

Soken-sensei let his Mana-bow form around his hand. It hummed deep and low. Light flashed, the bow was taller than six foot tall me.

“Mana . . . Reishi . . . Same thing,” I mentioned, “It’s always been rich in Spirit Particles. That’s where auras come from.”

It was no use getting Soken-sensei to go to the Quincy tribes. A traitorous part of me liked the old man (who wouldn’t). Part of me was scared about what to say to the hoard. There was a contest to become the Clan Heir. Saddest part is the council judged everything. Who you hang out with, what you do in your spare time, and even how you poke your feet. Soken-sensei might get caught up in all this. Even my cousin Squark had a chance for the throne.

“Okay, if you borrow stuff don’t get caught,” I warned, “And if someone challenges you to a battle act like it’s beneath you to do so. There’s a clan heir contest and I don’t think you’d want caught up in it if you want to get home.”

Soken-sensei’s eyes filled with tears.

“I died before I came here, I escaped a prison,” Soken-sensei near whispered, “My poor grandson. He must hate the Shinigami so much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Soken-sensei your grandson is my age right?” I addressed, “If he’s anything like you he'll be hard to hate and hard to get rid of. The toughest Quincies here are known for their staying power.”

The comment was blunt and a little offhanded but Soken-sensei’s smile had a full set of teeth. He at least had clothes and able bodied legs. I didn’t know at the time what I did was kindness. I didn’t have time to ponder it when the door to my cave opened and Squark came out swinging.

His claymore eclipsed the sun. It cast his target in a wide shadow. Soken-sensei didn’t notice the blow but he stiffened and dodged at the last possible moment. My hammer connected with the hilt of Squark's sword. He bared down with all his strength.

_Finally an opponent! An opponent!_

My Zanpakto was barking in my head again. Annoyed I tried to back down but my hammer had other ideas. Papillion backed off, swung down, then wailed on Squark's chin. The move overbalanced me. I fell on my side. Squark got sent flying up the mountain.

 _Tut-tut lo siento miho I was aiming to take off his head,_ Papillion tutted.

Whose hammer was this Zanpakto anyway. The little jerk!

_I want to get stronger. The clan heir contest will make me stronger._

That was a revulsion. The end result was to tea party with nobleman and brag while wearing stuffy outfits. I did not want to be a noble.

 _Well you are pretty weak for an Arrancar,_ Papillion noted.

Anger burned in my gut at those accusations. I'm not even a Soldier Sprout. Hell, weakness was not the priority of an orc. Squark rolled down the mountain only to crash down. My shoulders bore his weight like paper bears a paperweight.

“Who goes there!” roared the voice who happened to be my mother.

I'm impressed Soken-sensei didn’t yell Dragon the moment she walked out. Glistening red scales shined in the sun like water thrown on a magnesium fire. Her long tail swung low behind her ending in a spiked cudgel. Pupils widened then retracted in slit pupil eyes the colors of mandarin oranges. Her bat wings hugged a rotund girth that swayed either side between four leonine legs. Her swan neck ended in an angular head crowned with two dark red horns.

“Hi Mother,” I brought up, “I brought a friend. Mind if I take him to my cave?”

“What outrage!” cried one head.

“Such slander,” cried the second.

“How dare you bring home a Quincy!” yelled the third head.

The three heads yelling behind Mother are my step-aunts. They head the council of the Fire Dragon Clan. My mother is usually the final judge. Heck her clan and my Hoard united under a marriage treaty last year. My Dad brought back a fresh kill over one shoulder.

“A woman will head the clan,” aunt growled, “mark our words.”

Mother let loose a Mana pulse in the room. It didn’t used to affect me before. Now, I was flattened to my knees beside Soken-sensei. Her Mana was pulling me to the floor. Draining my energy along with it.

“Child why did you bring a Quincy?” She asked.

The hardest thing about having a noble for a parent. Sometimes she was my boss. Sometimes she was my mother. Everyone else calls her the Clan Chieftain Crimsona. I knelt on bended knee.

“Chieftain this man has escaped from a known tyrant,” I supplied. “I ask of Chieftain Crimsona that he gets to stay on our clan grounds.”

Dragons roared in defiance. Mana pulled me down with every flare. Orcs jumped up and down. They stomped in anguish. Squark leveled his sword ready to attack again. Papillion swung. The clang followed by a launch. My arm about popped out of socket. Many of the younger orcs joined in only to smash beneath a leonine paw. Quite a few of these women and the token men were sponsored for Clan Heir candidacy. That was the only thing keeping them from killing us.

“Why do you ask your Clan Chieftain and not your Mother,” asked Crimsona.

“The Clan Chieftain is a lot less biased than my Mother,” I admitted, much to the gasps of everyone else, Hoard and Clan alike, “My condolences to your parents. I'm certain the last Quincy raid hit too close to home.”

Crimsona looked like she was ready to spit acid. Still she kept her cool. Her parents were murdered in the last Quincy raid.

“I will keep it under advising,” she began, until she noticed the new gear, “I . . . Never pegged you for an egalitarian.”

“Spend some time talking with the man you'll see why I made this request,” I stated.

The Mana fields died down. Poor Soken-sensei looked ready to slip to his knees. I held him by the scruff of his cloak. Crimsona noted I gave him my mantle. You could see the recognition in her eyes.

Soken-sensei took off the mantle to lay at Crimsona's feet. The Clan Chieftain could never flinch but my mother’s toes curled at having one touch her. Soken-sensei got to his knees. He bowed. His forehead flush to the floor.

“I implore you Chieftain-sama, don’t blame the boy for my actions, he was only helping me,” the Quincy explained. He sat up to face her. “I can’t go to the Quincy because I am not part of their order. I come from a land very far away.”

“What land of which you speak?” asked the Chieftain.

“Japan.”

“Ah, that does explain the accent, how did you get here?” she asked.

“If you let me stay, I'll explain everything,” bargained Soken-sensei.

The Chieftain’s tail tip twitched. She rubbed her belly by force of habit. Finally with a nod she stood aside.

“Normally I, personally, don’t open my home to the Quincy,” Crimsona mentioned. “But as Chieftain I can’t ignore changes in my territory. A Lemur Beastman had dumped many cursed items in the Hoard's junk pile and the Priestess exclaimed one of her patients turned into a Soldier Sprout. Care to explain?”

“Hai,” remarked Soken-sensei.

“Hello,” she greeted.

“He means yes Chieftain,” I translated.

Crimsona blushed orange. Her cheeks glowed like a campfire.

“Okay then,” Crimsona exclaimed, pretending to know exactly what Soken-sensei was talking about, “Right this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations👇
> 
> Sore wa anzen desu ka? -Is it safe?
> 
> Hai, sore wa anzendesu.- Yes, it is safe.
> 
> Shinpaishinaide kudasai. Kanojo wa toraburu no gen'in to narimasu ka? Watashi wa kanojo o utsudeshou.- Don’t worry. She causes trouble? I'll hit her.
> 
> Nōhitto.- No hit.
> 
> Namae wa Boric desu. - The name is Boric.


End file.
